


Make My Wish Come True

by fairy911911



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, canon!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairy911911/pseuds/fairy911911
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Cas's first Christmas in the bunker, and Dean wants to make it the best one ever. But can he? Why does he? And would Cas even care?</p><p>A collection of deancas drabbles all leading up to Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White Christmas

It was Cas’s first Christmas.

Well, not really. The guy had been alive for every single one of them. Hell, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if he was there to welcome the big guy into the world himself. But it was Cas’s first Christmas in the bunker. No angel shit, no being dead, no other stupid reason to keep him away from Dean.

And Sam. Both of them. Of course.

So this should make it Cas’s first Christmas, as, by default, all the other ones sucked. And Cas deserved a good Christmas. Frankly, they all did. Amara’s still running around, Cas basically got cut off from his family, Sam’s whole God-is-talking-to-me crap, etcetera. Not to mention every other point of their lives in the past, all clearly adding up to a well deserved holiday themed break.

The only problem was Dean didn’t really know how to do a traditional Christmas. If he ever had one he clearly didn’t remember it. Any memories he does have is tainted by living out of motel rooms while desperately trying to hide it from his brother. Until they both grew up enough to stop giving a shit, or a least learning to accept that’s how things work. And recent celebrations had been watered down to exchanging gifts bought at convenience stores and downing liquor between cases.

Cas deserved better than that, but that’s all Dean really had. And, fuck, did he hate it. A sour feeling swirled in his gut at the thought of bringing Cas into their shitty Christmas tradition. That would just be depressing.

“Are you okay, Dean?”

 _Huh?_ Cas’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He only realized now he was gripping one of the library books so hard his knuckles were white. Cas was still, just staring at him in concern and slight confusion. Yeah, that did look pretty bad.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He sat the book down and willed every muscle in his body to release all the tension that had mysteriously appeared. It wasn’t working. He was not fine.

Cas scrunched his nose in that way Dean did _not_ find adorable and stood up. “Are you sure?” He made the move to come closer to Dean, which was not the right move because Dean was already getting distracted by his missing coat and tie and the addition of a beige button up sweater that looked eerily similar to the one he owned, which was causing a new, _weirder_ , feeling in the pit of his stomach, except this one was warm and fluttery, and-

He didn’t need anymore of this.

Dean took a sudden step back, but by the way Cas looked at him you would’ve thought he had jumped from one side of the room to the other. “Yeah,” he managed to get out. “Just sore. Don’t worry.” He tried to smile, but he could feel it coming out closer to a grimace.

Cas still looked worried.

The angel carefully made his way to where he was, keeping his eyes pinned on Dean as one would do for a spooked animal - which, given Cas’s history in the past few years and with Dean himself in the past few months - made sense. God, Dean didn’t even want to meet Cas’s eyes because they were so full of care and affection. And this was stupid because this all took place within a few seconds and he was reading way, _way_ too much into a dumb look Cas gave him, as if it meant anything. In fact, this entire thing was stupid. Cas probably didn’t give two shits about Christmas. He lived forever. He’s seen every Christmas there ever was. It’s not like any pathetic thing with Dean would be important or memorable or even worth doing.

And for some fucking reason, Dean couldn’t move. He stepped in a mound of superglue. Rowena had snuck in and magic’d him stuck. Cas took away his ability to move the lower half of his body. Any reason besides a concoction of basic panic and the masochistic tendency to put himself in situations of torture. Please let it be anything but that.

Worst of all, Cas was still staring at him like he was gonna break. “Dean,” he said. “You know you can tell me anything. What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t just explain that to Cas unless he wanted this conversation to go downhill fast. And he couldn’t just stand here blinking like an idiot. While his brain decided to stop working, his mouth decided to take matters into its own hands. “It’s Christmas,” he blurted out.

Well, it wasn’t the _stupidest_ thing he could say.

Cas squinted at him. “It’s the middle of December.”

Dean retracted his earlier comment.

“Yeah, but it’s coming. Soon. Exciting, right?”

“Yes,” Cas answered slowly. “I thought you didn’t care about Christmas?”

Apparently he does now. A lot. All for one angel. And he was about to deny everything and rush back to his room to curl up and die from embarrassment when Sam, thank God, came in to save the day.

“Guys, it’s snowing.” That was news. They hardly got any snow in Lebanon and never in December. “Guys, get up here.”

Cas gave him a meaningful look, some sort of cross between _are you okay?_ and _would you come with me?_ Dean took a deep breath in through his nose and made his way to the stairs, Cas trailing less than a foot behind. Sam had already gone back out and had left the door open for them.

The snow had just started. The thinnest layer of white, no more than an inch, covered the ground. The trees were dusted in white. And the flakes themselves - well, you couldn’t really say they were falling because it was so slow and soft. They were floating down. If wasn’t for the semi-abandoned building behind them, Dean would have swore it was the art on a Christmas card.

Sam was out spinning in the snow, trying to collect snowflakes on his tongue and in his hair. The two of them stood there at the top of the steps, just enjoying the quiet moment. For once, everything just felt calm.

Cas made a soft noise next to him, and he turned to see angel’s eyes shining and mouth curved up into a lopsided grin. And, man, Dean couldn’t help return it.

“Sometimes I’m still so amazed at your world.” His voice was quiet, full of wonder. “It’s so beautiful.”

Dean might not have had the best idea of what Christmas was or was supposed to be, but now it seemed like that didn’t really matter. Because if Cas’s face could light up like that, from only seeing a little bit of snow come down, then maybe he could do this. Maybe he could make this Cas’s best Christmas. Maybe more.

On a surge of bravery, he reached over and wrapped his hand around Cas’s. Dean’s freezing skin was instantly warmed by Cas’s hand. Dean didn’t really want to admit how good having that weight in his hand felt, how right. And, amazingly, Cas didn’t seem to mind either. Just gave a quick look down at their hands and Dean an even brighter smile before turning back to the world around them. But Dean couldn’t look away from Cas, even if he wanted to. He never wanted this moment to end.

“Yeah, it is.”


	2. I'm the Happiest Christmas Tree

It had snowed all through the night, leaving a powdery blanket covering the hills. But today everything was still. There was hardly even a breeze blowing through the trees. Which made it the perfect day to go get a tree.

You had to have a Christmas tree: it was like rule number one. The bunker finally allowed them to have a huge one, maybe over ten feet. And Dean was going to get the biggest one he could for Cas.

The one flaw in his plan was that he had assumed Cas would want to go outside. Dean had pitched the idea to him the night before, and he had agreed to it, albeit a little unenthusiastically. But Dean had forgotten that recently Cas wasn’t really up for leaving the bunker. He had figured Cas would just get over it since they were leaving to cut a tree down and not some monster’s head. But when Cas could hardly look away from his marathon of “Design on a Dime,” it became clear this was going to be an uphill battle.

“Come on, Buddy,” he pleaded, trying to block Cas’s view of the screen. The angel clearly didn’t appreciate that and tried to lean around the hunter’s body. “It’s not even dangerous. It’s just outside.”

“Dean, move. Casey’s about to tell us how to make an ottoman.”

“Cas!” This time Dean did actually turn off the TV and glared at Cas, who looked like he was still trying hold onto to the last image he saw.

“Dean.” It sounded like Cas was trying to be stern and angry, but it came out more as a whine.

Dean shook his head. “Nope.” He grabbed Cas’s forearm and hauled him off of the bed and onto his feet. “You are getting sunlight and fresh air, and you are gonna be fucking cheerful about it.”

The angel looked utterly dejected and completely exhausted. Not to mention pissy. But this was all for Cas. He wasn’t going to start feeling better if things continued the way they were. And it wasn’t like he would risk Cas getting hurt. There’s no way in hell he would let that happen. But at the same time Dean really didn’t want to make Cas anymore upset. He knew things had been tough him, tough on all of them, and being a prick wasn’t going to do anyone any good. This whole thing was to make Cas feel better, not worse.

He reached out to gently grab Cas’s shoulders. The edge in Cas’s glare softened. “Look, buddy, I’m gonna be with you the entire time. You don’t even have to help me or anything.” He took a deep breath, making sure he wanted to say the next part. “I just wanted your company.”

Cas didn’t move, didn’t do anything, but stare at him. This was stupid. Cas was still going to want to stay here. Which made this whole thing pointless. He could still get the tree, but Cas didn’t seem to want one. He was just making an idiot of himself again.

“Never mind. I’ll just-”

“I’ll go with you.” His eyes were still fearful, but the corners of his mouth had risen slightly. He was trying, just like Dean.

“Great.” Dean smiled back. “I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

And Dean kept to his word, staying one foot to Cas’s right at all times. They didn’t talk, but Dean didn’t really mind. That was one of the things he loved about Cas - being around Cas - he didn’t have to force a conversation or worry about silences. They could just exist together without worrying.

A ways into the woods something rustled in the bushes. It was probably nothing more than a rabbit, but in a flash Cas seized his hand and refused to let go. Not that Dean minded or anything. He just gave a small squeeze and kept walking.

But now things felt tenser. Cas was falling back into fear; he could feel like. He kept glancing back at the bunker in the distance, his hand was beginning to squeeze the life out of Dean’s, and he was even starting to shake slightly. Shit.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Yes?” he answered quickly.

“What do you call an old snowman?” Cas shrugged. “Water.”

Cas actually stopped mid-step to give Dean a glare that would rival one of Sam’s bitchfaces. When he couldn’t keep hiding his shit-eating grin Cas took his free hand and shoved Dean back a little bit. Dean didn’t miss this twinkle in his eyes, or how their other hands were still intertwined.

After that conversation got easier. Dean would keep telling stupid Christmas puns, which eventually got Cas laughing, and Cas would keep trying to point out good candidates for their tree. And Dean hadn’t had this much fun in a while. God, he’s missed being around Cas and not having to worry about anything. He missed smiling, and he hadn’t smiled this much in a long time. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He could spend the rest of his life walking with Cas in these woods. He really could. Honestly, he never wants to let go of Cas’s hand or stop seeing those beautiful blue eyes.

“How about that one.”

Cas points to a tree a little ways in front of them. It’s not massive like the pines that are given the chance to grow in the forest, but it’s much larger than any run of the mill tree in a lot: at least 12 feet, if not more.

Dean pulled both of them towards its base. It wasn’t too wide, which would help getting it into the bunker, but the branches were evenly spaced and had enough room for ornaments and what not. Its color was vibrant, even under the coat of snow. Dean pressed down on a few of the branches, testing their weight. He laughed as snow flung into Cas’s face on their release. The scowl he wore was utterly adorable.

“This one is perfect, Cas. Awesome find.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, I love it.”

“Good.” Cas looked up at him, just shy of beaming with his gummy smile, and Dean had never felt so at home.


	3. Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree

For once Dean was really glad Cas got his mojo back, because without some help the tree wouldn’t have budged from its place in the woods, much less gotten down the stairs. But, man, was it worth it. It was placed up against the staircase and stood as tall as the landing’s rail. It was awesome. And yeah, Dean couldn’t help but look at Cas’s smiling face when they finally got it standing on its own. Dean didn’t think he’d ever see a more beautiful sight.

They would have starting decorating yesterday, but both of them had agreed they didn’t have the energy to do anymore that night. So instead Dean gave him an awkward “night,” before shuffling off to bed.

But today was the day, and they even got Sam agreeing to help by going out to get some lights. Which left him and Cas to find something to put on the tree.

“There’s gotta be something left down here.” They traveled to the Bunker’s storage in hopes of finding anything Christmas-y. These guys had to have celebrated it at least once. The problem came from just how many things they had locked away. Actual hoarders. There already was a huge storage room for magical items and lore. How could they need another one the exact same size for personal junk?

He picked up a medium sized cardboard box, releasing dust into the air and Dean’s eyes. Gross. And all it contained were more books like the rest of them. Endless fucking books.

He looked over his shoulder where Cas was sorting through boxes on the other side of the room. “How you doing, Cas?”

“I’m starting to believe this is pointless.” Dean opened another box – glass vases. “How long has it been?”

“Like an hour.”

“This is horrible.”

“At least you have me.” Dean wasn’t looking at Cas, but he could hear the angel roll his eyes. He smirked as he opened another - dishes, some already broken.

He heard some forced shuffling of cardboard behind him, which didn’t really faze him as he opened another box - fucking books again. But turned around at the sound of Cas grunting.

He was standing on two stacked boxes trying to reach one on the highest shelf. Even with Cas’s six feet and extra support his fingertips still barely brushed the edge of the box. But what worried Dean was how one of the boxes shifted when he got up there and was now threatening to fall off and take Cas with it.

“Cas-”

“I’ve almost got it, Dean.” He was pawing at one corner in an attempt to angle it forward so he could grip it. But with every swipe his base moved as well.

Dean rushed over to him. “Cas wait!”

“Dean, I’ve got i-”

With one final push the box was within Cas’s reach and he was able to grab it. But his base wasn’t prepared for the additional weight, and it, Cas, and the stupid one he was trying to get all fell into a pile of cardboard and junk.

The cloud of dust obscured Dean’s vision for a moment. When it cleared he was left with Cas lying on his back, eyes closed and still clutching at the damn box.

“Cas, buddy, are you alright?” He shook Cas’s arm and, thankfully, received a groan in response. At least the idiot was conscious. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at Dean.

“I saved it.”

Dean snorted. “You’re an idiot.” But he gently ruffled Cas’s hair and helped the poor guy sit up. “Everything okay? Are you feeling dizzy?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, but didn’t move away from Dean’s touch. Instead he forced open the cardboard. “Dean.”

He glanced down to see ornaments - lots of them - brightly colored spheres and spires of different sizes. At the bottom was a silver tinsel garland. And resting on top was an angel to go on tip of the tree.

When Sam got home they began assembling the tree, which took a lot longer than expected. The lights look forever to wrap around, and then they had the issue of one bulb not being completely screwed on (that itself took almost thirty minutes because Sam and Dean kept arguing over which one’s they had already checked). The ornament hanging eventually had to involve finding a ladder to get at the upper half of the tree, which Dean was sure Sam stalled on doing. It looked a little bare from only having so many ornaments around. It was a little uneven in parts. But, by God, it was the best Christmas tree Dean had ever seen.

“One last thing,” he said. Dean pulled the angel from the box and handed it to Cas. “You do the honors.”

In the years he had known Cas, Dean had gotten a lot better at reading him, or Cas had gotten worse at hiding what he was thinking. But there were times, like then, where he was still a mystery. Dean couldn’t tell if he was happy to be given the honor, or upset that it was an angel, or shocked at it all. He just, well, stared down at the ceramic in his hands for a few moments before going up the stairs and leaning over the landing.

It was a bit of a reach, and Dean was sure Cas was going to fall again when the angel pulled back. “Dean, could you help me?”

He didn’t even think about it; he just ran up the steps and got behind Cas as support. When he leaned over again, Dean put his arms around him - just in case. And really, it was a good thing he did because Cas had to really reach to get it, enough that most of his weight felt like it was over the edge, and without Dean as his anchor things would not have ended well.

Cas carefully lowered the angel in place. It looked out at the bunker with the library in the next room, looked down at Sam - and Dean and Cas when they came down - watching over all of them. Like it was their guardian angel.


	4. Winter Wonderland

After all the work of getting the tree, the boys decided to spend some time relaxing outside. Well, Dean had told Cas they were just going to go on a nice walk. And, really, that’s what he had planned on. But all the snow was right there and Cas wasn’t really paying attention to what Dean was doing as he was explaining what type bird was hanging out in the tree next to them and his will was so weak.

This all came to a snowball crashing into the back of Cas’s head.

Dean had never heard Cas squeak before, but man it was hilarious. The whole idea of an angel of the lord looking so indignant with clumps in snow in their hair was just laughable. In fact, it was hilarious. Dean doubled over, unable to catch his breath. Above Cas was glowering at him. He could have gone on forever if something fast and wet hadn’t hit him in the face.

Cas now wore a satisfied smirk on his face while Dean brushed off the bits of snow clinging to his skin. Oh, now it’s on.

“You want war, Cas?” Dean taunted. “This’s one you can’t win.”

“I used to be the commander of a garrison, Dean. I don’t think you’re going to be difficult to beat.”

“You wanna bet?” Dean scooped up a pile of snow, chucked it at Cas, and ran the other way. He had to find cover. He barely dodged a ball aimed at his right shoulder as he slid behind a snow mound (or what he thought was a snow mound; the foot that hit it confirmed it was a large, solid rock covered in snow). His leg might hurt like a bitch, but he had a bit of cover.

He quickly formed a few snowballs and got ready to fire them at Cas. The above mentioned was hiding behind group of trees that left him pretty exposed. Amateur.

Dean flung them at Cas one at a time, but the angel dogged them all, and even more surprising started hurling more at Dean. They didn’t hit him or anything, as they just landed on the other side of his mound, but he had no idea how Cas got them. He didn’t see anything in Cas’s arms when Dean was throwing his own. Well, that just meant he had to step up his game.

Dean decided that the best way to beat him was to create a full arsenal and when Cas was least suspecting it drown him in snow. He wouldn’t be able to escape and victory would be Dean’s.

He got to work: he would need at least thirty snowballs for this, maybe more. But the snow was light and fluffy and didn’t easily compact. The minutes dragged on before he reached his goal. It was only then he realized there were no snowballs being hurled his way.

Cas must be stockpiling as well. This was his chance. He grabbed one of his weapons, took a steadying breath, and got up to throw it at Cas.

But the angel wasn’t there. His fort - or what you might describe as a fort - was abandoned. He couldn’t even see footprints leading away from the trees. Oh shit.

He got down and sat against the rock. Cas was going for the surprise attack, probably planning to sneak up on him from behind while he was making snowballs. Well, two could play at that game. He wasn’t letting Cas get the best of him. Dean was going to watch his exposed side until Cas came out in the open and he would pummel the guy with snow. No way Cas was getting the best of him.

But as time went by Cas didn’t show up. He’d had to be sitting out there for at least 20 minutes. Where the hell did Cas go? Did he get hurt? Captured? Was Dean being an idiot while his best friend was in trouble? He was just about to get up when a mound of snow fell on his head.

Of. Fucking. Course.

A large weight tackled him to the ground. He was on his back with Cas practically laying on him. The guy had the same determined look he wore when smiting people. He grabbed another handful of snow and shoved it in Dean’s face as to make it definitive: there was no hope for coming back after this and Dean had painfully lost.

“Cas! Stop it, stop!” He whacked the angel’s arm away. His heavy breaths were in sync with Cas’s.

“I won,” Cas announced. Dean could only nod in response.

It was only then Dean realized how awkward this position was. Cas was straddling Dean’s waist and had almost all his body weight pressed against him. They were staring at each other, face to face. Cas’s skin was flushed and mouth was panting. His eyes were bright blue in the light, but also slightly dark. And Dean didn’t like how this made him feel - he didn’t like that he liked how it feels. He should be fighting it, but something warm was stirring in his stomach (and if he wasn’t careful lower down as well).

“Could you get, umm, off? Please.”

That was when Cas seemed to realize exactly what position they were in and shot back like Dean had shocked him. Dean sat up and tried to look anywhere but Cas. This was too awkward.

“Nice job.” Dean said quietly.

“You as well,” Cas replied. “You gave it a lot of effort.”

Dean whipped his head around to look at him. “Is that your way of telling me I suck at snowball fights?”

“Well, it was quite easy to beat you,” Cas smirked.

Okay, Dean didn’t care if he had just gotten his ass kicked. He grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at Cas, wide smiles on both of their faces. This was so back on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I did get the idea to do this after watching "Snowball Effect." Sue me.
> 
> By the way, I am flying home for Christmas tomorrow, which mean's I'm going to be in a new Time Zone. They are going to be coming out later, and I don't know if I can get tomorrow's out on time. But I will try. Thanks for all the kudos. :)


	5. That's Christmas to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was on a plane and then got super sick so I could only start writing today. I have a lot to make up for. I will get back on track before Christmas.
> 
> The subject for this story is Star Wars. There aren't any spoilers, unless you don't want to hear my very base line opinion of it.

"You just don't want to go outside."

“No, I don’t understand why you’re so excited.”

“Dude, this is the most exciting thing to happen to me!”

“I assumed that was the apocalypse.”

“It’s Star Wars!”

“Yes, one of the most influential movie franchises in history, with six movies and multiple spin offs. This is the first film in ten years, since a trilogy that was wildly unsuccessful.”

“And we’re going to the midnight premiere.”

Cas still didn’t seem impressed. “I don’t understand the point of them. Why do you have to see it first? It’s not as if you have friends to spoil it for you.”

Okay, that was uncalled for. Over the years Cas had gotten better at being more tact, but sometimes - God - he was infuriating.

Dean glared at Cas. “It’s the principle of the thing. Besides you got all that information forced into your head.” Cas didn’t seem impressed with any reference to Metatron. “You should understand how big of a deal this is.”

“Dean, I know what Star Wars is.”

“Have you seen it?”

“No, of course not.”

Dean rubbed a hand down his face. “Well, that explains it,” he muttered. 

He had been pumped for this movie since he and Sam had first found out about it. Hell, they even bought tickets at the local theater in the hopes they would be free during the midnight premiere. He hadn’t really thought they would be able to go, but he’s not regretting it.

What Sam didn’t know was that he had bought a ticket for Cas as well. It wasn’t like he was expecting Cas to come, or even be around. But just in case. He wanted Cas to want to come, to forget about monsters or angels for a little and just watch a movie with him.

Which gave Dean an idea.

He grabbed Cas’s hand (while doing his best not to be affected by the confused look and slight blush on Cas’s face. They headed for Dean’s bedroom.

“What are we doing?” Cas asked.

“Educating you.”

He sat Cas down on his bed, ignoring Cas’s baffled huff, and went to get his DVD collection. Dean grabbed a stack and plopped down next to Cas.

“We are going to watch all of Star Wars before tonight. I want you to enjoy it.”

Cas didn’t say anything as Dean started up the disk. The words The Phantom Menace appeared on the screen. He gave a skeptical look. “You complain about this movie.”

“But you might as well see all of them.” Cas didn’t reply to that, but sat completely still as Dean settled down on the bed. The infamous theme blasted through Dean’s speakers.

Cas didn’t really know whether to speak or even what to say, but he smiled at Dean’s comments and complaints. Eventually he started piping up as well, grumbling at the cheesy lines and confusing plots.

They made it through the prequel movies in a breeze. Although Cas still couldn’t understand why the first one made was episode four, Cas really was wrapped up in the story. He was on the edge of his seat, laughing at the jokes and absorbed in the fight scenes.

Eventually it started getting late. Dean couldn’t remember the last thing he’s seen, but all of a sudden Sam was calling for them from inside the doorway. They needed to go now or they were going to be late. Dean looked around in a disorientated haze. Last he checked he and Cas were sitting back against the headboard. But now he was practically laying his head in Cas’s lap. The Return of the Jedi menu screen was softly playing in the background. Cas must have switched disks while he was out. Who knows how long they’d been in this position.

A weight removed itself from the top of his head - Cas’s hand, Dean thought. “Are you ready to go?” Cas softly asked.

Dean gave a small nod as he tried to hide his face from Cas. He didn’t need the angel to see how red it was. He didn’t need Cas to know how much he enjoyed the position.

Dean went out to impala with Cas trailing behind, where Sam was waiting for them already. They made it to the movie just in time. They didn’t have the best seats in the packed theater, but it was worth it. The movie was amazing. And if Dean got the courage to grab Cas’s hand in the dark of the theater, and if Cas squeezed back in assurance, well, no one but them had to know.

 


	6. Skating

Dean knew this was a bad idea. He knew ice-skating wasn’t his thing. He knew he was horrible at it. But Sam had off handedly mentioned the pond by the bunker freezing over, and Cas had sounded so excited to try skating for the first time. And, apparently, Dean didn’t have enough sense around Cas to consider his own personal safety.

At least it was nice out. It hadn’t snowed in a few days so the ice was clear and bright. And after pushing Sam (unwillingly) onto the ice to test its strength, they found that it could support a moose and would therefore be fine.

That really didn’t help Dean, however. While it was hilarious to watch Sam flail around, he was actually deathly afraid his brother was going to fall through. Cas said he would be able to heal Sam if anything happened, but that wasn’t too reassuring that nothing _would_ happen.

And, honestly, Dean never got the hang of ice-skating or ever really saw the appeal. Why would anyone voluntarily put blades on their feet and walk around on a surface with no friction and probably fall over - a lot. It wasn’t as bad as flying, but it was a close second.

Fortunately Cas loved it. He almost immediately got the hang of it was zooming around the ice like a pro. All while Dean was gripping onto a protruding branch for dear life. He probably looked like an idiot. Sam’s hysterical laughter confirmed it.

“Shut up, Bitch,” he snapped as Sam came up to him. “At least this is something that could actually hurt me.”

Sam’s bitchface did not disappoint. “We’ve nearly been killed by clowns multiple times. You’re just worried about bruising your ass in front of Cas.” He smirked and skated away.

Luckily, said angel didn’t appear to have heard them. But if his brother knew about his stupid crush than of course Cas knew. _Awesome._

“Dean?” Speak of the devil. Cas glided up next to him, stopping so close that he visibly flinched. Smooth, Winchester. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, Cas, just peachy.” Dean barely tried to hide the fear and annoyance in his voice.

“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“Nah, I’m good. Just go...” He made a vague gesture with one hand, only to rapidly return it to the branch when one foot began sliding out from underneath him. He tried to ignore the way Cas was ready with arms stretched out to catch him if needed; he didn’t need false hope.

“Got have fun.” Cas still looked skeptical, but eventually nodded and began another lap around the pond.

Despite the constant strain to balance himself, it wasn’t all that bad. He had a great view to watch Cas float on the ice. It was like he was flying again, and no doubt that was why he was so happy. No, not happy: ecstatic. Dean had never seen a bigger smile on Cas’s face. Even with the distance Dean could see the light in his eyes. Thank God the fear and pain were worth it.

Just as Cas was about to make a pass around Dean, his skate caught a chip in the ice. His torso propelled forward; his arms shot out in front of him. Dean didn’t think. He raced over to Cas.

The good news: Cas was fine and was able to stay on his feet.

The bad news: Dean fell on his ass in the middle of the ice.

“Dean.” Cas came over to him, but Dean wished he would just disappear. Maybe the force of his fall would create a crack in the ice and Dean would fall through and just die. At least then he wouldn’t have to figure a way to get off the freezing ice.

Cas leaned over him and extended a hand. Dean begrudgingly took it (Maybe he could blame to cold on why his face was so red). But, as things tend to go for the Winchesters, Cas’s plan backfired, and instead of raising Dean up, Cas slipped and fell next to Dean.

Okay, Cas falling on his ass, splayed out on the ice, was pretty funny. And Dean’s instincts to rush over and protect him were softened by the smile Cas cracked. And suddenly Dean couldn’t stop laughing, and Cas even gave a chuckle, and everything was so ridiculous and yet, somehow, he was okay with it.

Eventually their laughter fizzled out and Dean realized just how close they were. It wouldn’t take much to lean in and press his lips to Cas’s. The angel’s eyes glanced down at his mouth. Maybe this was the breaking point. Maybe this was the climax in all those chick flicks Dean pretended not to have seen where the two finally get together. Maybe-

“Uh, guys.” And just like that the moment died. He exhaled and turned his head towards Sam, who was standing on the bank with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. “I’m heading back. You two can continue doing ... whatever.”

When Dean looked back at Cas he couldn’t help but notice that the angel had moved back out of Dean’s space. Dean didn’t want to admit just how much that hurt. Cas gingerly helped him up, a blush covering his face as well.

“Would you like to continue skating?”

Dean let out a huff. “I never started and I can’t.”

Cas tightened his grip on Dean’s left hand and gave him a shy smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t let go.”

They skated for at least another hour. Even though it was freezing Dean felt warm inside. His feet and back were sore from the strain, but for the first time he enjoyed skating. And, thankfully, Cas kept true to his word.


	7. Under the Mistletoe

Dean knew something was up. Ever since he and Cas had come back from the pond Sam had been giving them weird looks. Or would be trying to get out of their way. Or would just be staring at them. And whenever Dean caught him (which was a lot) he would always turn away and act innocent. The hell was his brother up to?

The next day was better. They hadn’t planned on doing anything, so Dean had opted to show Cas a bunch of Christmas specials and relax in his room. It was nice and quiet, and he really did enjoy just being around Cas. But he couldn’t help but feel like Sam was watching him. Or them. And he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Around seven Dean was starting to feel hungry, and Cas was willing to follow Dean around to get food. Which was nice until they entered the kitchen saw his brother sitting at the table with an evil grin on his face. Next to him Cas stopped dead in his tracks. What the hell? With a cocked eyebrow Dean looked around for any prank Sam could have hidden. Eventually he looked up.

Son of a bitch.

Above the doorway was a piece of mistletoe dangling from a red ribbon. He and Cas were stuck under it. Together.

This should have been a dream come true. He had the perfect excuse the kiss Cas and gauge if the angel felt the same without any real repercussions (if anything went south he could chalk it up to the tradition). But Sam did this to mess with Dean, which meant it was pure evil and nothing else. Besides, as  _ romantic _ as the clich é was supposed to be, Dean didn’t want his first kiss with Cas to be forced and probably unwanted by one of the parties involved. It felt fake.

He looked down at Cas, who was staring with an unsettling amount of determination. Dean’s cheeks were warm and hands clammy. Then, all of a suddenly, Cas’s mouth was on his. It was hard and quick, no more than two seconds, and his mouth was gone and Cas was back to studying Dean and his reaction.

Dean could feel his brain short-circuiting. Cas kissed him. Cas actually kissed him. He liked it, a lot. And it was all for nothing because it meant nothing to Cas.

Cas just kept staring at him like he was going to break. He couldn’t even look at Sam - probably trying to hold back laughter. He couldn’t take it anymore. Dean pushed Cas aside and stormed into room, slamming the door behind him. When he was sure it was locked Dean flung himself on the bed and waited for the world to end.

He wasn’t going to cry. That was stupid. It’s not like Cas owed him anything. It’s not like Cas knew how much this was hurting him. The guy was just following a dumb tradition he probably didn’t understand. And worst of all, in that small moment, Dean loved it. Kissing Cas felt right. He felt warm and safe and  _ home _ . He wished the kiss had been longer so he would’ve had the time to catalog every single detail. Since it was never going to happen again.

God, he was pathetic.

He didn’t know how long he’d been laying face down on his bed when he heard a knock on his door. “Go away.”

“Dean, can we talk?”

Dean groaned. Talking with Cas was probably the last thing he wanted to do now, but Cas could and would stand outside his door forever and just wait him out. Dean could probably last another day, maybe two if there was a bottle of water thrown somewhere in the room, but eventually he would have to face Cas or die. And as appealing as the latter seemed at the moment, he didn’t really want to go through the thing another time.

He pushed himself off the bed, dragged himself over to the door, unlocked it, and flopped back on the bed before calling out a muffled, “It’s open.”

He heard Cas’s footsteps and felt the dip in the bed where he sat next to Dean’s sprawled body. He wasn’t going to look at Cas. He couldn’t.

The two remained in silence for a long time before Cas finally spoke up.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was not my intention.” Well at least someone realized it was a sick joke to play on him. “Sam had told me that was the proper response to being under mistletoe. When I saw it I was sure...” His words faltered for a moment. “I thought you might like to.”

Wait. Cas thought Dean wanted to kiss him. Cas wanted to kiss Dean. No mistletoe was necessary.

Dean’s brain was caught in a loop. The whole time he was pining after Cas the other guy was, at least to some extent, doing the exact same thing? He had to have misheard him. He sat up to look Cas in the face, to see if he was lying about anything.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You wanted to kiss me?” Dean sputtered out. “With or without mistletoe?”

Cas paled. His voice was caught in his throat. Every second that passed by hurt a little more: Dean had to know. Finally, eventually, Cas gave the smallest nod. That was all Dean needed.

Dean’s kiss was softer, slower, but still packed with the same intensity. He reached for Cas’s arm with one hand and wrapped the other around the angel’s neck. He had to know he was here, really here, with him. Not a dream, not a fantasy, but real.

When Cas recovered from the shock he kissed back with the same amount of force. He grabbed on to Dean as if his life depended on it, as if he might disappear. Dean didn’t blame him. He tried to press closer, needed to be closer, only coming apart when the need for air became too much.

They rested their foreheads together, eyes closed, breathing in time with the other. A minute passed with only the sounds of their breaths breaking the silence.

“So,” Dean murmured, still a little dazed from the entire thing. “Are we good.”

Cas couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Yes, Dean, we’re  _ very _ good.”


	8. Merry Christmas, Darling

Dean wasn’t expecting it to be easy. If he had learned anything about relationships it was that fairytale endings weren’t a real thing and you just didn’t end up happy. And this thing with him and Cas was less than a day old, but, dare he say it, it felt right.

Cas had been his best friend for years, the closest person to him (excluding his brother). So adding on kissing and cuddling wasn’t too hard. And it felt awesome. He loved being around Cas, and now he finally had an excuse to basically glue himself to the angel’s side. Best of all Cas wanted the same thing. He was always reaching for Dean’s hand, always leaning up against him. They had stayed in Dean’s room the rest of the night, wrapped up together watching old Christmas specials. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was Cas’s arms wrapped around his middle and head tucked against Dean’s shoulder.

The next morning Dean woke to an empty bed. The sheets were cold on the other side. Cas had left - he’d regretted the night before and couldn’t even spend the night. Dean had ruined everything. His limbs felt like they were made of lead. There’s no way he could look Cas in the face after this.

The sound a rough voice singing _Merry Christmas, Darling_ floated in from down the hallway. Cas was awake. He could hide in room forever. That seemed like an excellent plan. But after a few minutes his stomach was groaning and, yeah, he was going to need food ASAP. Maybe he could just sneak into the kitchen, grab something, and run back before he had to deal with the angel.

He silently crept down the hallway until he got to the kitchen. The closer he got, the louder the voice became, and the smell of something baking became stronger. Dean stuck a head into the room and his jaw dropped. Flour was everywhere. A broken egg was dripping onto their cracked shells resting on the floor. A burnt heap of something was tossed onto a paper towel and placed on the table they ate on. But what really was the shocker was Cas was in the kitchen, wrapped in Dean’s robe, making what looked like pancakes.

What the hell? Cas can’t cook. And he was in his robe. Dean moved farther into the kitchen, or at least tried to. His foot missed one of the _three_ steps down into the room and barely caught himself. The result was grabbing onto the shelf of supplies and knocking three metals bowels and a can of cooking utensils on the floor.

Cas jumped at whipped around. When his eyes landed on Dean the widened in shock. “Dean, you’re supposed to be asleep.” He moved in front of the counter, trying to block Dean’s view and hide the food he was making. “It’s not done yet. I wanted to wake you up with-”

“You made me breakfast?”

Cas nodded. “Breakfast in bed.”

No one had ever done that for him. It was easy and simple (at least it was supposed to - the destroyed kitchen may beg to differ) but it was one of those little things he never got. And here was Cas: flour in his hair and wearing his clothes and looking so upset he couldn’t hide the surprise, as if that ruined it.

Dean rushed up to him and wrapped his arms around the angel, burying his head in Cas’s neck. Cas froze for a moment before relaxing into his touch. Dean heard the clang of the spatula falling into the sink and suddenly Cas’s arms on his hips.

“Do you like it?”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle as he leaned back to look Cas in the face. “Are you kidding?” His hands moved up to cradle Cas’s face. “I love it. You’re perfect. I lo-”

Dean shut his mouth and froze. He couldn’t backtrack. Cas just stared at him expectantly. All Dean could think to do was lean down and press a slow, deep kiss against Cas’s lips.

He had only kissed Cas for the first time yesterday and now his mouth thought it was a good idea to say that? It didn’t matter if it was true or not. He couldn’t.

And, God, he did feel that way. It didn’t matter if technically this was a new thing. He’d known Cas for ages. Dean had gone through things with him that no one else would understand. Cas gave up everything - his family, his power, his life - for him. He was it for Dean.

Eventually he would say it - when the words wouldn’t get caught in his throat or when his brain wouldn’t pull him back. When it was right. But he had Cas in his arms, and for now that was perfect.


	9. This Christmas

It wasn’t like Dean was purposefully not telling Sam about him and Cas. After they got things sorted out the rest of the night was spent in Dean’s room. And Sam had left early the next day for supplies (and present) shopping as well, only returning late at night when Cas and Dean were back in his room. So, yeah, it wasn’t like Sam was around to see.

And Dean wasn’t going to act like he and Cas _weren’t_ together or anything. Sam probably wouldn’t care if he were with a guy. But with his best friend? That could be weird. And the only reason they got together was a stupid prank Sam pulled. He didn’t really want to see how Sam dealt with the development.

But, as with all things, that sweet period of innocence would end. Just in this case it was with Sam walking in on Cas and his brother making out to _This Christmas_ on the couch.

“Oh my god, guys,” Sam groaned and stomped out of the room. Okay, that was probably not the best way to tell him.

Dean tried to untangle himself from Cas. “Sam, wait!” He practically fell off the couch and ran after his brother, leaving behind a very concerned Cas.

Sam was in the kitchen, taking a mouthful of whiskey straight from the bottle. So this didn’t start off well. Great. Dean cautiously approached him.

“Look, Sam-”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” his brother demanded. Dean was a little relieved by the question, honestly. Sam was still yelling at him, but it wasn’t because of whom he was with. “Did you think I wouldn’t be cool with it?”

“...No.”

“Than why?”

“I just never got around to doing it.”

“Dean!”

“What? It’s been like two days!” he shot back.

Sam looked utterly done with everything - hand resting on head, bitchface and all - but then suddenly froze with shock and confusion. “Two days?” Dean nodded. “With the mistletoe?”

Dean snorted. “Yeah. You’re stupid prank got us together.”

Dean didn’t expect Sam to breathe out a laugh and look, what, _relieved? Happy?_ The hell?

“Thank God that worked.”

“Worked?”

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s (indignant) squawk. “Yeah, Dean. I was hoping that would give you two the push to get over yourselves and admit your feelings to each other. Honestly, it was getting kind of painful.”

Dean was still in shock and desperately trying to process this. He was having trouble doing more than blink. He finally got out, “You planned this?”

Sam nodded as he sat down at the table, and finally that stupid smirk was forming on his dumb face. So the bitch was technically the reason for getting them together. He better not expect any favors for it. Dean trudged over to the counter to make a cup of coffee, mumbling a gruff, “Good,” as he walked past Sam. That was all the thanks he was going to get; his brother didn’t need a bigger head or bragging rights.

It was quiet for a moment until Dean turned back to Sam. “So you really don’t care that I’m with Cas? That it’s _Cas_? You’re not worried it’s gonna mess up the group dynamic?”

“Honestly? I’ve called this for years.” Dean glared at him. “What? You two are painfully - and I mean _painfully_ \- obvious.”

He shrugged. “It’s going to _change_ the dynamic, yeah. But I’m sure we’re going to be fine. Just please don’t do anything gross in front of me.”

“Can’t promise you anything, Samuel.” He remained deadpan until Sam tossed a spoon at him, which he easily dodged while snickering into his mug.

“Is everything alright?” Cas stepped in from the doorway carefully. “The shouting stopped so I’m assuming everything is fine?” It was more of a question than anything else.

“Yeah, Cas, we’re fine,” Sam answered.

Dean responded with a “Yeah, Babe,” and drew Cas in for an over-the-top kiss that produced a confused squint from Cas and a barfing noise from Sam.

“I’ve created a monster,” he muttered.

“We still have some decorating left to do,” Cas said. “Do you two want to start that now?”

“Sound’s great.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam said with a smile.

Yeah, some things were going to change in their makeshift family. But, really, it was still Sam, Dean, and Cas: Team Free Will. No matter what happened they were going to be fine. And Dean couldn’t have been happier.


	10. Let It Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY CAUGHT UP TO THE SET RELEASE DATE. I AM BACK ON TRACK. THIS _WILL_ END ON CHRISTMAS

Dean was hesitant about Cas making cookies. On one hand, Cas had never made them before and had practically begged Dean all morning to help him (and Cas had an adorable face when he was sucking up). But on the other, Dean remembered the pancakes. They tasted fine, but it took over an hour to clean the kitchen, and he really didn’t want another huge mess before Christmas Day.

But, honestly, Cas was going to try it whether or not Dean was there, so him acting as supervision was probably for the best. Sam just laughed at him as Cas reached for grumpy Dean’s hand and led him to the kitchen. Whatever. Sam was technically alone on Christmas and he had a hot angel to make out with. Suck it.

Cas couldn’t decide which flavor to go with, so Dean made the executive decision that they were just going to make a mix: gingerbread, sugar, chocolate chip, peanut butter, and oatmeal raisin. Which meant a lot of cookies they were going to eventually have to finish. And a lot of ingredients and supplies to watch out for.

But working with Cas in the kitchen was actually a hell of a lot of fun, if not sickly sweet. He was constantly bumping shoulders with Cas and having to reach around him. It was especially nice when Cas couldn’t figure out how to work the electric mixer and Dean offered to help by standing behind him and moving his hands through the motions. His face was still slightly warm with embarrassment, but Cas leaned back into his touch and hummed along to his whispered instructions. Most of all they were able to just talk and joke around. Dean had forgotten that once you got Cas going on a subject he would never shut up. His rant on missing the clear taste of food really was endearing. And Cas was the only person who would crack a smile at his jokes: every single one of them - even the stupid ones. Sometimes Dean could even get a chuckle or out-right laugh, and at those moments Dean could feel his knees begin to give way.

They got through the peanut butter and oatmeal cookies in a breeze. Everything was going great until the sugar. It was Dean’s fault for leaving the mixer in the bowl of still dry ingredients, but he was  _ not _ going to take all the blame for this: Cas was the one to press the button.

Dean barely saw him do it. It was just a movement out of the corner of his eye, but when he really noticed it was too late. His hurried cry of “Cas” was in vain, and the angel, without thinking, turned on the mixer.

And Dean thought the pancake mess was bad. It was like the kitchen was ground zero of a baking explosion. Flour and sugar went everywhere: on the walls, on the floor, on the ceiling, and on Dean and Cas themselves. To top it off, tiny grains of the mixture were floating down around them like snow.

He finally looked over at Cas. His face and upper torso was almost completely white. To top it all off he was gaping at the still buzzing mixer like he couldn’t believe it had done that. It was like he thought the blender was trying to personally offend him. Dean lost it. He doubled over laughing.

The buzzing of the mixer finally stopped. Cas tried to speak over his laughing. “Really? I would look in a mirror if I were you, Dean.” Huh?

He composed himself enough to stand straight and see Cas trying to keep a composed and stoic face (although a smile was quickly cracking through). Cas handed him a shiny silver tray.

Dean was just as bad. He wasn’t as stark white, but he might have been worse: his short sleeves allowed for more power to get on his arms and, being farther away from the blast zone, he had a larger area of his body hit.

Cas started laughing quietly. And now Dean was laughing again. This whole thing was ridiculous. And glancing at the food they had already made only gave him an even more ridiculous idea. He dipped a finger in the bowl of red frosting and rubbed a glob on Cas’s nose. The angel immediately stopped and did his best to look down at the spot.

“What was that for?”

“Now you’re Rudolf.”

He could see Cas’s internal groan. It was quickly replaced with a fire in his eyes. Cas grabbed a handful of melted Chocolate and wiped it across Dean’s cheek. Oh, now it was war.

They didn’t ever get to those last cookies. Dean didn’t care. Because after five minutes of fighting they both looked hilarious with a white base and splattered with an array of colorful frosting and garnishes. Dean slid to the floor with Cas following close behind. His cheeks hurt from smiling, but he couldn’t stop. He gazed at Cas’s toothy grin. Neither could look away from the other. Cas took Dean’s hand and kissed, lips now bright red from the artificial frosting smeared on his knuckles.

Dean just had a food fight with his best friend, and it couldn’t be better. It was going to take hours to clean the kitchen and themselves, and he didn’t care. All Dean was interested in were the bright blues eyes in front of him and the realization that, yeah, he was completely, hopelessly in love with this dorky angel and he was one hundred percent okay with that.


	11. Baby, It's Cold Outside

Things were great. He and Cas were wrapped up in a blanket on the couch not paying attention to some classic Christmas movie on TV. A fire was going, Dean had made some spiked eggnog and laid out the cookies from yesterday, and for once everything was perfect.

That was until Cas’s obnoxious phone started vibrating against his leg and screeching at them. It really was a mood killer.

“Come on,” he breathed against Cas’s lips. Cas sighed and shot Dean an apologetic look as he pulled away and dug around his pockets for the phone. Dean watched the angel answered the call as he exited the room. The couch felt cold without him. Cas needed to get back here quick so they could continue to lazily make out.

When he did come back, it was in a rush. Cas walked right past him and grabbed his coat from on the table. He was more tense than usual, and lines of worry had formed on his face. Dean instantly got up and went to him.

“Cas, what’s wrong?”

“Claire needs my help.”

“Is she okay?”

“She was taking care of a haunting in Fort Dodge when a drunk driver hit her car head on.” Dean could feel his heartbeat rising in fear. He opened his mouth to talk, but Cas kept going. “She’s fine, but she needs me to pretend to be her dad for the release and then drive her home.”

“Jody can’t do it?”

He shook his head. “Technically, my vessel is still her guardian. And Claire informed me that Jody was helping Donna in Minnesota.”

“Awesome,” Dean groaned. “Let me grab my stuff.”

He tried to move past Cas to get actual clothes from his room, but the angel stopped him. “No, Dean. You’re staying here.”

Dean stared blankly at Cas. “What?”

“A blizzard is hitting the area. It's freezing and it might be dangerous.”

“That’s part of the job.”

“Fine. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“But you can take care of yourself.”

Cas huffed. “I’m an angel. I can heal myself quickly.”

“And all of a sudden your mojo doesn’t work on me?”

“That’s not the point, Dean!”

“Than what is?”

“I need to help Claire and I don’t want to have to worry about you.”

“I’m an adult Cas. And what happened to having to drag you out of the bunker?”

“Claire needs me.”

“And  _ you _ need me.”

This was ridiculous. Cas knew he could help, or at least be some company. It was a long drive. And whether Cas wanted to recognize it or not, he wasn’t superman and didn’t have to be the one to take all the bullets. He just got over Rowena’s spell. He didn’t need to strain himself.

At this point it was a stand off. The two stood there for at least a minute before, finally, Cas looked away and gave a defeated sigh. “Fine. Get changed. I’ll wait here.”

He knew Cas was pissed, but he’ll eventually get over it and they would have a great time together. Cas had to admit Dean was right sooner or later.

He threw on some thick jeans and a heavy coat. At the last minute he decided to stuff a top and pair of jeans Claire had left last time she was at the bunker into a duffle bag. Who knew what the condition of her clothes were in.

He couldn’t have taken longer than five minutes, but by the time Dean had returned Cas was nowhere to be seen. He ran into the library and front hall: both empty. No, he wouldn’t have. Cas wouldn’t have pulled that on him now. He rushed through the bunker until he got to the garage. It was empty as well, but Cas’s 1978 Continental was missing.

Son of a bitch!

He opened the garage door, more than prepared to follow. He only got a few minutes start; Dean could catch him easily. But a few steps on the road confirmed the worst: black ice covered the cracked pavement. Baby was gonna need chains and that would take at least thirty minutes, probably longer since he would have to find them. Dean recalled Sam mentioning the rough conditions the other day, about taking Cas’s car out for supplies shopping because chains were already attached and Dean would kill him if the impala was hurt.

Fucker! Dean yanked his phone out of his pocket and called him. After a few rings he answered.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dean shouted.

“Getting Claire,” Cas replied coolly.

“Yeah, I know. I thought we agreed I’d come with you.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“So you’re going to get yourself killed all alone.”

“Dean-”

“Damnit Cas!” he cried. “After all this, everything between us, you’re still gonna lie to me.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“Bullshit!”

“I’m safer if I’m alone. I don’t have to worry about you.” Cas sighed. “You worked so hard on Christmas. This way I know you’ll be there to celebrate with Sam.”

Logically he knew Cas was trying to sooth him, but the comment only made him angrier. “What do you mean? You’re not gonna be here?”

Cas’s voice became slightly strained. “No. I will. It’s just a possibility that I can’t. But I promise I will.” Now he was completely trying to backtrack and failing hopelessly. “And we can talk about this when I get home,” Dean should have been warmed by the use of the word home, but was too furious to care, “but right now I need to pay attention the road. I  _ will  _ see you tomorrow. I... goodbye.” The phone beeped to signal the end of a call.

He saw red. Dean jus threw the phone on the concrete. He loved the guy, but, God, he just wanted to wring his neck. He was going to get himself killed out there. After a few minutes of sulking and glaring at the now slightly chipped screen of his phone, he picked up the device and searched the weather.

There  _ was _ a blizzard affecting the Midwest, and it was slowly heading north towards South Dakota. The snowfall was increasing and temperatures were getting colder. Cas and Claire were gonna get stranded. He slammed the phone down again and this time the screen did fully crack. So much for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry about the angst. It will get better.


	12. I'll Be Home For Chrismtas

That’s it, Dean was calling it: Christmas officially sucked. And he thought it was going so well. Cas was happy, Cas was happy  _ with him _ , and all of the sudden the stupid angel left him. Yeah, it was to help Claire, but goddamn it he wasn’t some helpless human that couldn’t survive a little cold. He was a hunter for fucks sake.

Cas’s Christmas was going great, and he had to ruin it by lying to him.

He really thought they had gotten past this years ago, but, no, Cas still would go off and do his own thing like it didn’t affect Dean at all.

Screw him.

And now he was trying to act like the bigger person. Cas had texted him early that morning - around 5 - letting Dean know that he had arrived at Fort Dodge safely - albeit much later than assumed - and was en route to the hospital. Dean didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. He let all of Cas’s messages go unanswered, even if he read all of the texts.

_ 5:34 - I found Claire. She’s safe, although she now has a broken arm and sprained ankle. I’m going to try checking her out. _

_ 6:03 - This is taking longer than we expected. Apparently the hospital is very packed. _

_ 6:18 - Claire wants to talk to you. She says I’m not good at cheering her up. _

_ 6:21 - Now she wants to know why I’m ‘mad’ at you. Please don’t call to make things worse. _

_ 6:22 - I apologize for that last message that was rude. _

_ 7:12 - Claire is released, with crutches and one cast. We are going to get food before getting on the road. Please call me. _

_ 7:39 - We found a place to eat. Please call me. _

_ 8:25 - Still at the dinner. Claire has checked and the storms are getting worse. Please call me. _

_ 9:02 - We are trying to leave the city. Dean, pick up your phone I know you are reading these. _

_ 9:37 - Please call me. _

_ 10:19 - dean it’s claire. pick up the phone and call cas he’s freaking out _

_ 11:30 - I’m sorry for not waiting for you. Please call me. _

_ 12:08 - Dean. We are currently in Estherville, Iowa. The roads out of town are closed. For the moment we are stuck here. But I promise I will get Claire back to Sioux Falls and be back home for Christmas. Please call me. _

After that Dean couldn’t read any more messages. He let the phone ping softly as he wallowed on the couch with a beer. Every so often it would actually ring, but every time he let it go to voicemail. There was no way Cas was making it back to the bunker, much less getting to Sioux Falls. It was hopeless.

He looked around at the decorated hall. The stupid tree sat by the steps mocking him with its flashing lights and Christmas cheer. He didn’t even want to see the scattering of presents under the tree, because then he would have to think about the one he got for Cas. It was dumb, just a stupid journal, but he’d thought Cas would like having a place to write about new monsters or what was happening or just how he was doing. At this point Cas would never see it or open it.

Sam had already pointed out to him how melodramatic he was being. “He is coming back, Dean.” “He still has time.” “He’ll probably be home by tomorrow.” Every comment was met with silence and glare.

Dean knew he was being stubborn, but he was mad and lonely and hurt. Did Cas even want to be around him? He had no problem ditching him the night before. Did Cas even care that the only reason Dean was celebrating this stupid holiday was because of him? Because seeing Cas happy made him happy, and now he can’t even see Cas because he ruined everything and-

Something jabbed itself into his palm. Dean looked down to see the shattered remains of his beer bottle scattered around the floor and table. A few were lodged in his hand. Dark blood was dripping on the wood. Great. Just adding to the pile of things going wrong.

Dean sighed and figured he should clean himself up, but he found he could only do the bare minimum effort required: remove the glass and wrap it with a rag from the kitchen. He was too tired to clean in or stitch it up. He was just exhausted. He looked at the clock. It wasn’t even that late - a little past 10. Sam was already asleep; maybe he could try.

An hour and thirty minutes later Dean discovered he couldn’t. No matter what he did he couldn’t sleep. The bed felt cold without Cas next to him. And even though he was ignoring the guy he couldn’t stop worrying about him. The questions of  _ where was he? _ and  _ is he alright? _ filled his mind. Which lead Dean to going back to the library and check weather and traffic reports. There were 3 and a half feet of snow and counting in Estherville. The temperatures were around 20 degrees. Roads were being closed all over the place, especially headed East. There was no way they made it to Sioux Falls.

He wanted the feeling of some satisfaction that Cas was also miserable, but he couldn’t. Even after all of this the only thing he wanted was for Cas to be here with him. He wanted to see Cas’s beautiful smile. He wanted to feel the angel’s arms around him. He wanted to hear Cas’s voice whisper his name in his ear. But he pushed Cas way. Dean probably smothered him too much, practically forcing him to stay at his side for the past few weeks. He’s the one who picked the fight. He’s the one would ignored him when something could have happened. They might have skidded off the road and crashed, and the last conversation he would’ve had with Cas was a fight. He was a horrible person.

“Dean.”

He had to be hallucinating. There’s no way he could be here.

“Hey, Old Man.”

He turned to see Claire at the top of the steps, covered in an oversized and noticeably shivering. Behind her, covered in snow was Cas.

“Hello Dean.”


	13. All I Want For Christmas Is You

“Cas?”

“Can I get some help here?”

Claire glared at Dean, shaking the crutch she was clutching, until he ran up the stairs to get her. Her heavy coat was covering the arm wrapped in the cast. At least the injuries were on opposite sides of her body - it might be easier to balance. Claire didn’t seem to care about the luck: she glowered at Dean the entire way down the stairs, not even a little appreciative that Dean practically  _ carried _ her down the stairs.  _ Teenagers. _

Once she shrugged off the coat (letting it fall to the floor) and got herself situated, Claire muttered something about going to bed and hopped off towards the bedrooms, which just left Dean with Cas.

He was still at the top of the stairs, determined to look anywhere but at Dean. His hands couldn’t decide if they wanted to rest flat at his side or try to find his pockets.

Dean’s feet moved on their own accord, making their way up the landing. Cas froze like a deer caught in headlights. He didn’t know what Dean was going to do. Dean didn’t know what he was going to do. But the moment he reached Cas he raised his arms and smothered Cas in a gripping hug. The angel stumbles back a little from the weight.

“Dean?”

“I’m sorry for freaking out. I was being a jackass.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Cas pulled back a bit to look at Dean’s face. “In a way I betrayed your trust, yet again, and I apologize for it.”

“Yeah, please just talk to me instead of doing that hero bullshit thing.” The corners of Cas’s mouth turned down and he tried to look away from Dean, but the he brought a hand up to cradle Cas’s cheek and directed Cas back into him. “But I get why you did it. I don’t like it, but I get why.”

“And you were perfectly right to ‘freak out’,”

For a moment all was silent and the whole only involved the two of them. Dean tightened his hold on Cas a little. “So, we cool?”

“Yes. We are very cool,” he said deadpan. Dean raised an eyebrow and a corner of Cas’s mouth quickly followed. Dean burst out laughing, dropping his head against Cas’s shoulder. He missed Cas.

“God, I love you.” Cas froze underneath him and Dean realized what he’d just said. Shit.

Cas cupped his face, forcing Dean to look at him. His eyes were shining and there was a small smile playing on his lips. “I love you, too. Okay, Dean.”

A beaming smile broke out across Dean’s face. “Yeah, okay.” He leaned in to capture Cas’s mouth, pulling the angel in closer. Cas smiled against his lips before pulling back.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” he whispered.

“Merry Christmas.”

\- - - - - - - - -

Everyone but Sam slept in late, which was fine by him (he finally had some time to himself). But this also meant he didn’t know Cas and Claire were in the bunker until she came out to ask him where the cereal and he, surprise and ingrained self defense, accidentally pulled a gun on her.

Past that, things were fine. It was a pretty laid back Christmas. Dean presented Sam with a new collection of Game of Throne books (which he completely denied wanting to get them for selfish reasons) and in return got a set of new tools for baby. Apparently while coming back Claire and Cas stopped in a hot topic for five minutes to get each other gifts: a tee that read ‘i like clothes more than people’ for Claire and a little Castiel figure (based on the book) for Cas. The head didn’t really resemble him, but Cas liked it nonetheless.

Dean was pretty sure Cas was going to think his gift was stupid. But while Dean was explaining how it was a journal Cas cut him off with a hug. “Thank you.”

Cas shyly pulled a small bundle wrapped in tissue paper out of his pocket and held it out for Dean. Inside was a small silver chain.

“I know you used to wear jewelry. It goes around your wrist, so monsters won’t be able to use it against you.”

Dean couldn’t think of anything besides that Cas was utterly perfect. He leaned in for a slow gentle kiss. It got a groan from Claire, but Dean couldn’t care less. Cas was here with their small, makeshift family and was his and, honestly, there was never going to be a better Christmas than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. I hope all of you have a wonderful Christmas and New Year. Thanks for reading.


End file.
